A morning of walking: Promenade le Corbusier, Roquebrune-Cap-Martin

The Promenade le Corbusier.

We choose to walk the Promenade le Corbusier this morning from our apartment, around Cap Martin, to the Plage de Carnoles and back, a good 10 km.

It's  a coastal path with sublime views of the rocky coastline, the sea which sparkled, the surrounding mountains and with vistas across to Monaco and to Menton as we traversed the promenade. 

It felt so good to be close to the sea and to be away from the busyness of the Cote d'Azur. 

We are now just waiting for the scorching mid afternoon heat to abate and then we plan to have our swim in the Med.

Look at this sea!

Sidebar: I do have to chuckle at the reality check of going for a swim versus the beautiful sea photos. The rocks are slippery, the beach is a pebble beach and makes it so hard to get in and out, never mind the kilometre walk down and up the hill to get to the sea.

Nothing elegant about the swim at all...took myself off to the pool afterwards which I much prefer.

We felt revived after a shower and a train ride into Menton for an evening pizza. We lucked on a good choice of restaurant not too far from the 'SNCF Gare' and ate well. 

A return visit: Apricus Osteria and Bar, Apricale

The approach to Apricale, breathtaking even on the second viewing

There is a spaciousness about having a week in one place and that has always been the pleasure of our timeshare swops around the world. 

Ambling through the village

Here on the Cote d'Azur we are nestled between Nice and Menton with Italy on our doorstep. 

We have appreciated the choices of how to put our days together and yesterday we got to go back to Apricale, the hilltop Ligurian village, for another round of delicious food and another amble through the ancient old streets. 

It's a rare treat to return to an isolated destination like Apricale and I am so mindful that these set of circumstances that find us here, are unlikely to happen again.

And what a difference to Sunday. 

The crowds had dissipated, there were no rally drivers revving up the narrow steep streets, we got to breathe in the milder more humid air and to just take in so much more of the detail of the thousand years of history in this village. 

We even found the ancient communal bread ovens, the villagers would prepare their dough and come to the 'forno' for the baking, it was used until the 1940's when the last baker stopped his fine trade.

Apricus details.

Once again we ate with joy, my burrata and fresh peaches were a perfect late summer starter and equally Fred's carpaccio was delicious. We just happily sat back with the views of Apricale and had our courses.

We also took the opportunity to natter to the maitre d about their relationship with Chef Jan and he shared lots of stories and news which was entertaining indeed and we shared a good laugh.

Sidebar: we have a late afternoon swim here at Le Golfe Bleu which is such a treat after a day out and of course after all the delicious food. We have been meeting people too at the pool. So yesterday we had a note taped to our door, an invitation for a sundowner. The American couple on our floor have owned a unit here for 25 years and it's setting is one of the best in the complex. It sure was lovely to sit back and take in the sunset, watch all the lights come on in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin with conversation rolling from one topic to another. 

A train ride: colourful Nice

Nice Port from the Colline du Chateau

What a treat to take the train into Nice today, the hassle free way to navigate this beautiful Cote d'Azur and to take in the scenery without watching the navigation aid or the traffic!

There  is something magical about the colours of Nice, the warm biscuit and yellow tones, the orange hues, the acid greens and all the way to hot pink. 

If we had to use this palette back home we would 'dial it back', it's the soft Mediterranean light that all makes it work.

It's a visual delight.

Shawni and Craig had spent some time in Old Nice during their recent stay. It was our turn today, we ambled around, and of course stopped for a Salade Nicoise, as one has to and needs too. 

Even with the temperatures hovering near the 30's we followed the paths up to the viewing points on the Colline du Chateau, for these remarkable perspectives of this iconic city on the Mediterranean.

Old Nice for lunch

Promenade des Anglais from the Colline du Chateau

A Sunday lunch in Italy: Apricale

 

One of Chef Jan's favourite getaway spot, the Italian town of Apricale

I watched season 1 of Jan some years back. 

I remember being completely taken by an aerial shoot of a hilltop Italian town nestled in the Ligurian Alps in one of the episodes (and the haunting soundtrack is magnificent too). The South African Chef, with his Michelin star restaurant in Nice, has a real affinity and love for this little village which he calls his 'happy food place'.

Our happy food place, buffalo mozzarella caprese,
borage and ricotta ravioli with butter and sage,
panne cotta.

So Fred and I are based in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin and instead of lazying on a Med beach today, or doing what the French do on Sundays, we headed off into the Ligurian hills to find our own happy food place in Apricale. 

And we did, in fact we plan to return a few times and have one of Jan's favourite places booked for Wednesday, Apricus.

Its the simplicity of excellent fresh ingredients treated well that makes for happy food, nothing superfluous and everything paired with ease.  

The village is on the list of the most beautiful villages in Italy. I can certainly appreciate why, the tiny alleyways, the arched passageways, the ancient houses and the cobbled staircases give Apricale a unique charm.

Charming Apricale, Western Liguria, Italy.

Les Bignous: Salies-du-Salat

Rest and enjoy was the advise from June and we certainly did.

We had the gift of a home in the Haute-Garonne for a gentle and restorative retreat. Certainly a far cry from the crowds and busyness of both the Marseille and Paris rugby weekends. 

We stayed close for some of the time, an ice cream from Kimglace, the plat du jour at Local 90, baguettes from our favourite boulangerie, Fred gardened and pruned, I cooked, we swam and walked.  We also explored the area, riding the impressive Pyrenees passes, we hiked, we took in the serenity of the churches, enjoyed the villages and it was all a deep pleasure.

It was a place to have family time too, long sunny summer days with Craig, Shawni, James and Kirstie, swimming, swing ball, walking into the village for provisions, the Monday morning market, a braai and just spending time together.

A family at play.

 

Flying the flag: the RWC 2023 conversations happen wherever we are

Flying the flag wherever we land...

It may seem quiet about the RWC here on the blog, but it's not the case in reality. Fred is avidly watching, tracking developments, watching replays and commentaries, making predictions...and as only Fred can chatting to anyone and everyone who seems even as vaguely passionate as he is about the rugby. 

The latest example was in the lift going to the 3rd floor of the Guggenheim Bilbao and Fred spotted an Irish supporter wearing his rather faded old jersey. Well that was all it took and a half a later I eventually prised him away, still blocking the path of art lovers, while the two of them excitedly made predictions for the win. 

So the next keenly awaited game is Scotland vs Ireland and by then we would have travelled all the way east across France to set up home in Cap Martin for a week.

"We have sheeps", indeed: La Queseria, Bilbao

 

A delightful cheese shop in old town Bilbao, La Queseria

Indulging my passion for cheese we rounded off our stay in Bilbao by heading down to the old town to pop into a cheese shop and to source Basque Country cheeses. 

And as the shop owner said, 'we have sheeps', so its ewes milk cheese and she choose two for us.  One pasteurised and the other 'cruda', both well matured and sourced directly from the farm -queso idiazabal and queso irati. 

A fresh baguette and Basque cheese awaits with a view of the Pyrenees as we are back in Salies-du-Salat. 

Another special moment indeed.

A day at the museum, venturing inside: Guggenheim Bilbao

The inspirational work of El Anatsui, Rising Sea.

The interior spaces of the Guggenheim are as remarkable as the exterior and at times completely dwarf the art. Even Picasso's larger pieces of sculpture looked intimidated by their context. 

One piece, however, held its own. The Ghanian artist El Anatsui's monumental work, Rising Sea, up on the third floor. As it happens this was the last piece we walked past and when I appreciated what I was looking at it completely stunned me. Art from liquor bottle tops.

Quote from Curator: For six decades, El Anatsui has been refining a pictorial language that transcends boundaries of culture and medium. In 1998, the artist began making metal sculpture from discarded liquor bottle tops. The material holds conceptual significance given that alcohol was one off the commodities Europeans transported to Africa in exchange for slaves. The material therefore bestows the work with an historical symbolism that, as with so much of Anatsui's work is as powerful as it is subtle.

His team of studio assistances flatten, twist, crush and then stitch the aluminium tops together with copper wire which took up to a year for this piece! 

The epic scale of the work is a metaphor for the enormity of climate change.

Rising Sea, the expansive surface glimmers like waves, the bottom colour bursts suggest a skyline.

Warhol, Kusama, Picasso 

A day at the museum: Guggenheim Bilbao

The Guggenheim from the Puenta La Salve

It only took 4 years in the mid-90's to build this titanium, limestone and glass masterpiece with its incredible visual impact. Built on the site of a former industrial wharf on the Nervion River it has become a icon of Bilbao throughout the world and what a gift to spend the day in, on and around the Guggenheim.

The building dwarfs 'Maman' 

Fred and I have experienced many impactful buildings during our travels and this Frank Gehry's design, with its unreadable internal and external scale and logic, is now a firm favourite. 

Perhaps only the Sydney Opera House would compare for mathematical complexity of design. 

Can you imagine trying the read these plans!

The titanium sheets kept changing their hues as the weather and light conditions changed throughout the day and it glows.

Rather peaceful view of the Nervion River.

'Tall Tree and The Eye' Anish Kapoor, all about the reflections on surfaces.

Meet Puppy, world's largest flower sculpture: Guggenheim Museum Bilbao

Puppy, Jeff Koons, stainless steel, soil and flowering plants
Entrance to the Guggenheim Bilbao

Puppy at the entrance to the Guggenheim here in Bilbao.

Thousands of colourful begonias, impatiens, daisies and greenery make up Puppy as he stands with dignified attention at the main entrance to the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. 

The museum's faithful guard dog.

A monumental piece and also a monument to the sentimental - puppies and flowers. 

He makes me smile and I cannot wait to get back for another look this morning.

 

Tulips, also by Jeff Koons, could not be more different to Puppy. A bouquet of high gloss colourful balloon flowers blown to gigantic proportions.

Tulips, stainless steel balloons!

Snowy owl moments: 'Maman' at the Guggenheim, Bilbao

'Maman', bronze by Louise Bourgeois, Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao

There are times on long extended overseas travel when it's too easy to compromise, it's easier to say no for whatever reason, Fred and I call these decision moments, Sharon's 'snowy owl'. We had been travelling across Canada and Alaska for a couple of months and had arrived back in Anchorage, a couple of days earlier than expected, after a particularly arduous birding trip out to the Pribilof Islands.

I thought about planning a trip up north to Barrow, the furtherest northern community in the USA and an excellent sighting spot for the Snowy Owl. But I didn't. We went bear watching, glacier viewing, cooked salmon and halibut instead, all special but I have yet to see a Snowy Owl, a must on any birders' list.

It was a decision where I settled, rather than being bold and following what I really wanted to do.

And here we are, in Bilbao, Fred having driven across the 380km from Salies-du-Salat, and this is not a snowy owl moment, we braved traffic, a parking garage, signs we cannot read to get to the Guggenheim this evening as heavy rain is predicted all day tomorrow - our museum day.

I have just experienced what I have desired to see and do, which is to experience the power of art,  'Maman'! 

'Maman' is monumental, 9m in height, predatory but protective of her sac full of eggs. 

She hovered above me on those bronze spindly legs which are like Gothic arches, she is powerful and fragile. 

Happy and grateful.

'Maman' looking towards the bridge.

We buy cheese from a farmer: Aire de Lacq Audejos

Ewe's milk cheese, direct from the farmer.

As we fly along the motorways with a destination in mind we pop into an 'aire', a motorway stop, to picnic, to have a break and we don't expect to be either delighted or surprised - it's functional at best.

Today we pulled into an aire and I set up the table while Fred wandered off to find the coffees. A man approached me carrying a cooler box and my South African response kicked in, 'what does he want, I'm not available for anything'! 

He is a sheep farmer, and makes cheese, he also pops over to the aire at lunch time and sells his cheese. What a complete delight to say yes, we tried the ewe's milk cheese, well matured, nutty, fragrant and had some for lunch. 

I asked a few times for the name of the cheese and I could not decipher the reply - but he mentioned it's regional and between two valleys, and I figure it's the name of the aire, so its fromage de brebis Lacq Audejos, and completely delicious.

The barns captivate me: rural Haute Garonne

Barn relics of the Haute Garonne

Lattice-work details are another feature of the barns,

A conversation with the delightful Kim of Kimglace, the artisanal ice cream maker from St Martory, got me appreciating the barns along our afternoon drive to the Col Portet d'Aspet. 

She makes a heady Fleur de Lait ice cream and only does so in summer when the cows are out in the pastures, eating the grass, as the milk is then rich and flavourful. A true connoisseur.

Come winter, come the snowfalls, the animals are herded into the barns and hay fed. Mostly the barns are attached to the centuries old farmhouses, two storied, upper wooden structure for the hay and an enclosed lower tier for the animals. This old style mountain farming has changed no doubt and the barns are now more a feature of the landscape than a practical solution to the brutal winters of the Pyrenees. Barns are now collapsing or having makeovers and being integrated into the living space of homes.

Anyway, I had Fred stopping at the last minute to photograph these old barns.  Even though the temperatures are still in the 30's, the farmers are getting ready for the cold, the hay has been harvested and bailed, and in some cases moved into the barns already.